


Hello Neighbor

by astraplain



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4365476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabelle continues to be Kurt’s fairy godmother</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello Neighbor

“Ah.” Isabelle warned, raising her hand to signal, or perhaps warn Kurt to stop. “This may be my last chance to be your fairy godmother. Accept it.”

“You’ll always be my fairy godmother,” Kurt insisted, finally taking the envelope Isabelle had been prodding him with. It was heavy and when he opened it, there was a set of keys and a packet of papers inside. He only read the first line before his hands dropped leaving him gaping at her. It wasn’t often that Isabelle managed to shock Kurt into silence and she wished she had a camera to record the moment.

“Don’t you dare,” Kurt warned as if sensing her thoughts. He gathered her up in a tight embrace holding on as long as he thought she would let him before finally letting go. “I can’t believe you did this. If you’d listen, I’d tell you it’s too much.”

“Hardly enough, you mean. It was your ‘Behind the Kurtain’ column that put Vogue.com on top, and your designs that made me very rich.” She wrapped her hands around his wrist and hauled him toward the exit. “Besides, it’s time you stopped living like a starving artist way out in Bushwick. I know you love the loft but the commute is killing you.”

“Midtown West.” Kurt sounded as if they were discussing a move to Mars. Isabelle tsked at him and powered them both forward in search of a cab. She got one on the first try as usual, a skill that Kurt not-so-secretly envied.

Isabelle climbed in first rattling off the address to the cab driver while Kurt settled in beside her, excitement overtaking his shock. Even if the place was a closet, which it wouldn’t be, he knew he’d love it. He’d been putting off finding a new place for years, always wanting to save a little more, do a little more research. The truth he barely admitted, even to himself, was that he’d been safeguarding memories of the tiny little Chelsea apartment he spent so much time visiting while he was at NYADA.

Adam Crawford’s place had barely been a studio, but it had been his, the monthly rent paid with hard work and the occasional gift from family. When Adam’s big break finally arrived just after Kurt’s graduation, it had been on London’s West End, not Broadway. Adam had offered to let Kurt take over the apartment, but the thought of living there alone was too much and Kurt retreated to the loft in Bushwick and stayed, sharing with a variety of roommates until he could finally afford to live alone, converting Rachel’s old bedroom into a sewing room for his designs.

He owned the place outright now, having bought in when the building went co-op. After a star-making turn on Broadway, a chart-topping solo album and a successful clothing line he didn’t need the money from renting the old place, but he might anyway, letting it go cheap to some wide-eyed hopefuls new to the city.

The memory of his frantic search for affordable housing when he first arrived in the city all those years ago made Kurt smile. It had been his first bit of luck in the city he’d dreamed of for so long. He’d had more lucky breaks over the years, mixed in with a lot of hard work and some disappointments, but he’d always consider finding the loft as confirmation that New York was where he was meant to be.

“We’re here.” Isabelle’s soft voice brought Kurt back to the present in time to take in the buildings and shops near his new home. He paid the cab driver, ignoring Isabelle’s protest and offered her a hand out of the cab. She put her arm around him and turned him slightly so he was facing the building on the end, next to a narrow street.

“Five floors,” she told him. “Six if you count the finished basement. Stucco. Metal balconies that double as a fire escape on the front. Not the most attractive building as you can see. But,” Isabelle stepped up to the nondescript entrance and escorted Kurt inside.

“Better?” she asked with a wide smile as Kurt took in the narrow but elegantly understated lobby that held a security desk, a small grouping of chairs and, at the far end, an elevator next to a solid wooden door.

“Good afternoon, Ms Wright.” The middle-aged woman behind the desk rose to greet them with an impish smile that reminded Kurt of Mercedes. “Would this be Mr Hummel?”

“I am,” Kurt replied, shaking her hand. “Ms…?”

“Just Lenore, honey. You’ll be seeing enough of me to use my name.”

“Only if you call me Kurt.” Kurt cast a look at Isabelle. “I’m sure Isabelle agrees.”

“She does,” Isabelle confirmed before asking Lenore, “Is he here?”

“Left a few hours ago for rehearsal but he should be back this evening.”

“Excellent. We’ll leave you to your work then.” Isabelle took a few steps then turned back. “Tell Sarah I’m envious, and remember I’m next on the list for one of your scarves.” Lenore held up her knitting and waved it like a flag of surrender. Isabelle laughed and shook her head before leading Kurt to the elevator.

“I’m doing this backwards on purpose,” she told him as she pressed the “2” button and waited for the elevator to take them up one flight. They stepped out into a tiny entryway and she motioned for Kurt to use his key.

They stepped into a pale grey foyer with a door to the right and a door and long hallway straight ahead. Isabelle opened the door on the right and stepped through, turning to watch Kurt’s reaction to his first view of her gift.

His wide-eyed silence was exactly what she’d expected, but the way he stepped up to the railing and held on as if he were afraid that what he was seeing was a dream made her heart light. For once, she had gotten the fairy godmother thing right for him.

“This can’t be real,” Kurt whispered, looking down on the main living area of the apartment from the second floor balcony. The entire space was lit by the massive window that spanned the full width and two-story height. A spiral staircase connected the balcony on the far end down to the main floor, right next to a baby grand piano.

“That’s included,” Isabelle told him before Kurt could ask. “The piano, the art, all the furnishings. The last tenant left it all so feel free to keep or dispose of any of it. Except the piano. If you ever decide you don’t want it, call me and I’ll talk you into keeping it.”

“I’ll remember,” Kurt promised, with a hint of hysteria in his voice. He was breathing rapidly and his eyes were huge in his pale face. Isabelle patted his arm and steered him back to the hallway where the bedrooms were located. All these years together and Kurt still needed time to accept that he deserved good things. The bedrooms were nothing special and the ordinariness seemed to calm him.

“You’ll hate the kitchen,” she told him as they descended to the main floor where he reacted exactly as expected to the small, dark kitchen. Just as Isabelle had hoped, this small flaw in his new apartment was exactly what Kurt needed to start claiming the space.

With new energy, he was everywhere at once, pointing out changes that could be made, and features that could be kept or modified. Kurt in creative mode was one of Isabelle’s delights and she let him go, savoring the way he moved gracefully through the space, his slim form somehow filling the apartment with life. Her own creativity sparked, Isabelle settled into a chair and took out her tablet, jotting notes and making sketches. She’d let him finish exploring the rest of this floor before leading him to the workroom downstairs.

+++++

“Sorry,” Kurt apologized again as he offered her a cup of coffee. Isabelle had had the kitchen stocked with some basics, knowing that Kurt in creative mode often forgot to eat.

“No need,” Isabelle assured him, showing him the tablet. They’d worked together long enough that he understood her scribbles. With her permission he added a few details before settling in to enjoy the spacious room. Kurt kept looking up at the ceiling far overhead. It was a long and narrow room, but the height and the amount of light made it an impressive space.

“This place is classified as multi-use, so you have the choice of using some or all of the downstairs as a showroom for your designs. You could even rent it out to other designers for a limited time; a gallery of fashion.” They laughed at the idea, knowing how Kurt often had so many projects in the works that he’d easily fill the space. Still, it was an intriguing idea and she could see him already considering the possibilities. “No need to decide all at once. Settle in first.”

“Isabelle,” Kurt turned to her, serious again, “This is much more than I ever imagined. I won’t ask if you’re sure about giving this to me, I know you are. But…” He shook his head, tears threatening. “You truly are my fairy godmother.”

“You’re welcome,” she told him simply, giving him a tight hug. He would never understand how much he’d given her in return so she accepted his thanks. Reluctantly she drew back, realizing how late it was. “I need to go. Do you want to stay here a while?”

“I think I will,” Kurt looked up again, his eyes bright. “You’re coming to dinner in a few weeks. Once I get everything moved and settled.”

“Of course. Let me know if you want help unpacking.”

“I’ll hire someone for the move, but I’ll take you up on the offer to unpack. You’re one of the few people I trust to put things in their proper place.”

Kurt walked Isabelle to the door, only just remember to ask as she was about to leave, “How many other tenants are in this building?”

“Hm? Oh, just one. He bought the top unit a few weeks ago. Just moved to the city and wanted something fairly private. You’ll like him.” Isabelle blew Kurt a kiss and hurried off, leaving him alone in his new and overwhelming place.

Kurt wandered through the rooms again, viewing them more critically for changes. He was pleased that the master bedroom had plenty of closet space and a small, well lit alcove that could hold a desk, but all of the furniture would have to go.

An hour later he was seated at the piano picking out a half-remembered song when his doorbell rang. He used the peephole but could only see some blond hair and part of a shoulder. Remembering that Lenore was on duty, he opened the door.

“Hullo neighbor. Can I borrow a cup of sugar.” Adam Crawford in all his casual, messy-haired glory stood before him with an empty measuring cup and huge grin.

“Adam” Kurt threw his arms around his old friend, nearly tackling him to the ground in the process. Adam caught him and held on tight, lifting Kurt off his feet. The measuring cup pressed into Kurt’s back.

Over his shoulder, Kurt could see Lenore smiling at them. He gave her a wave before dragging Adam into the apartment and closing the door.

“I thought you were in London?”

“Not for the next three years. Hopefully longer.” Adam assured him before teasing, “Haven’t you been reading the trades?”

“They’re doing your play?” Kurt almost shrieked. Adam’s expression was all he needed for confirmation. “I should have known. All those awards and two years of sold out shows on the West End. And you’re brilliant in it.”

“You saw me?” Adam’s smile softened to the small, intimate one that Kurt was so familiar with. It had been so long but he remembered every moment of their time together. Adam had dated and had relationships since they’d parted and he knew Kurt had too, but he hoped this would be their chance.

“Unexpectedly. I had to leave immediately after to catch my flight, but I couldn’t be that close and not see you.”

I wish I had known,” Adam took Kurt’s hand holding it lightly. He ached for more, but he didn’t know if the attention would be welcome. Kurt had always been protective of his space.

“You really live upstairs?” Kurt asked, overwhelmed by so many things happening so quickly.

“I am. I’ve been here a few weeks, but I confess that I’ve barely unpacked. He tapped the measuring cup. “I did manage groceries, so that was just an excuse to see you.”

“I can’t imagine you not having sugar. How would you bake?” Kurt teased, leaning in to Adam’s space as if he wanted to curl up against him like he used to when they were sharing that ratty sofa in Adam’s old apartment.

“I do happen to have a fresh batch of cookies.” Adam tried not to sound too hopeful but from the look on Kurt’s face, he was trying just as hard not to appear too eager.

“Chocolate chip?”

“Sugar too. With sprinkles.” Adam wriggled his eyebrows to make Kurt laugh. His heart fluttered when that much loved sound soared through the open space. Adam’s apartment was a duplicate of this one, but without the piano. He’d been debating whether to buy one but decided to wait; borrowing piano time was a much better excuse than sugar.

“I’ve got tea and telly to go with those cookies,” Adam offered.

“Sold!” Kurt hopped up and turned to offer Adam a hand just for the excuse to touch him. Adam accepted, and as he stood, he pulled Kurt into an embrace, holding on for a long time before starting to sway gently. Kurt went with the motion, humming. Adam danced them toward the door, neither of them willing to let go.

The measuring cup remained behind, forgotten. Kurt would discover it the next day and return it filled with Adam’s favorite chocolates and a cheerful “Hello Neighbor.”

::end::


End file.
